Willow’s attention was immediately drawn to the center stone. It had the familiar image of the splayed hand glowing white in the darkness.
Ramai paused, scanned the surrounding area and after a moment, nodded as if satisfied. “We made it in one piece.”
“Only because of you.” Willow stared at the tiny man with awe. “I hope you don’t think it’s rude, but ... Ramai, what exactly are you?”
Ramai cocked one bushy eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest.
“I-I mean,” Willow stammered, suddenly feeling like an awkward child confronting her parent. “You’re not like any person I’ve ever met. You have to admit what you just did—getting us out from under the noses of dozens of wildlings—was just amazing. You being able to pop in and out like magic, are you—” Willow choked on the words, feeling awkward and ridiculous. But what else could explain what she’d seen?
“Am I what?” Ramai asked with an amused expression. A shooting star raced across the night’s sky.
“Are you a wizard?” Willow blurted as she imagined the frightening tales of demon-possessed wizards and felt her cheeks heat from embarrassment.
Chuckling, Ramai shook his head and patted Willow’s arm. “No, dear child, not at all. I’m just a long-lived traveler of sorts. I’ve seen many things and occasionally have a few tricks up my sleeves.”
“But what about the magic? Those barriers.” Willow held up the ring on her finger. “This ring? I don’t understand how—”
“Willow, my dear, there was once a philosopher who lived many centuries ago named Arthur C. Clarke that I’ll quote. ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ So, the things you might see as being magic are usually not quite the case. There’s almost always some kind of explanation. It may be too complicated for our minds to grasp, but it’s much easier to think of it as a trick. Some people are better at some tricks than others.”
“So you aren’t a wizard, and what I’ve seen wasn’t magic?” Willow asked.
“No dearest, I am neither a wizard nor able to do true magic. I would point out that each person has his or her own gifts,” Ramai tapped her shoulder with his pointer finger, “you more so than most.” He turned and pointed at the slab with the glowing handprint. “Speaking of tricks. Once you touch the entrance to that portal, you and anyone you’re touching will immediately be transported to where it’s linked. So make sure that everyone has clasped each other’s hands,” Ramai tilted his head toward Growl, “and make sure someone is touching your wolf before you touch the symbol. You don’t want anyone left behind. Do you have any questions?”
Willow grasped Raz’s outstretched hand as he stroked the top of Growl’s head. “Only one. Once I’m done, should I use the ring to let you know?”
Ramai nodded. “Good question. When you’ve concluded your business in the Dominion’s lands and returned back to the lake, tap or squeeze the ring three times in rapid succession and I’ll appear at the edge of the lake to guide you back to the underworld.” He motioned toward the slab. “Now hurry, you’ll want to take advantage of the night while you have it.”
Willow inched closer to the portal and crouched. She tightened her grip on Raz’s hand and Growl settled at her feet. “Okay, remember we’re about to get wet. Swim to the shore as soon as we arrive. Ready?”
Growl yawned and let out a high-pitched whine.
Raz nodded.
With Ramai standing over them, Willow cringed as she reached toward the glowing hand, uncertain what to expect.
Just as her palm touched the stone, the world flashed white.
Growl shook violently and droplets of water flew in every direction.
Still dripping wet from the lake, Willow gazed up at the full moon and the air smelled of the Forbidding’s forest. It was a scent of pine mixed with an odd tang that left her with the metallic taste of blood.
Raz tugged at her sleeve and pointed at the forest. “Many eyes are watching. No wildlings, just the wildling eaters.”
Willow turned to Growl and whispered, “The werebits are friends.”
Growl huffed and gave her an odd look that to Willow almost looked like a frown.
“I don’t eat pack-mates.”
Willow smiled as dozens of glowing eyes stared from the dark woods. “Come, it’s okay.” She patted Raz’s shoulder. “This wildling is safe. He’s good.”
As the werebits advanced from the woods, they clicked their teeth in seemingly random patterns, but to her, it was as if they were speaking like anyone she’d ever known.
“Lady of the lake called him a wildling....”
“He doesn’t smell like a wildling....”
“Is she hungry?”
Nearly one-hundred werebits gathered in a large half-circle around Willow and her companions. Some approached and nudged her shins, their large razor-sharp fangs never touched her as she scratched between their ears.
Not sure if any of them had names, she instead addressed all of them. “I need to cross the large stone barrier.” Willow pointed toward the Dominion’s lands. “Can you help me find a way to get past the barrier without being seen?”
“She wants sweet roots.”
“Told you she was hungry.”
Some of the werebits began to scatter and Willow blurted, “No, no. I need to go myself. Can you show me how to go that way?” Willow waved again toward the south.
Some werebits at her feet clacked their teeth together and spoke to others.
Almost immediately the crowd split and the werebits that had been at her feet began hopping toward the forest.
“Come.”
“We show you.”
Willow turned to Raz and Growl and waved for them to follow as she jogged after the werebits.
She raced through the forest and her heart nearly stopped as two wildlings cut across her path and without giving Willow a second thought frantically raced deeper into the woods.
Seconds later, a hoard of gray-furred werebits sped past her and dove further into the woods, chasing the wildlings.
Willow smiled. “I think those Wildlings are going to have a bad night.”
After a few minutes of running, Willow spied through the foliage hints of the concrete barrier to her south. Suddenly, the werebits that had been leading veered into a thick wall of vegetation and disappeared.
Willow slowed and stared at the foliage, uncertain how the tiny creatures had managed to wriggle through the tightly woven undergrowth. It looked impenetrable, and just as she was about to pull out her knife to slash through the branches, Growl advanced and pressed his nose against the undergrowth, revealing that a three-foot section of foliage tilted forward.
Growl pushed into a downward-sloping passage, and Willow scrambled after him. The werebits had been waiting for her, and chattered as she poked her head through.
“Come.”
“Must go under rocks.”
As Willow crawled into the hidden tunnel, Raz followed right behind her.
The werebits shot ahead. Despite the passage being only three-feet tall, Willow did her best to follow on her hands and knees. The tunnels were dimly lit by luminous lichen that grew on their walls. The lighting reminded her of the underworld tunnels of the bomb shelter. The roughly-built tunnels were a perfect size for Growl as he raced after the werebits. Raz also seemed to have no problems since he was used to scrambling around on all-fours.
The vastness of the network of werebit-dug tunnels was shocking. As Willow passed through dozens and dozens of storage chambers filled with roots, she must have also been passed by thousands of werebits racing around in every direction.
It was like another underground city.
“No wonder the soldiers never figured out where the werebits came from.” Willow remarked more to herself than anyone else.
After nearly an hour of scrambling ahead, the werebits brought her to a tunnel that narrowed dramatically as it began to slope upward. It was only large enough for Willo
w to crawl on her elbows and knees.
At the end of the tunnel, the werebits shoved through a woven barrier of undergrowth.
As Willow followed, sticking her head through the hidden barrier, she breathed deeply of the air and immediately knew; she was back in the lands of the Dominion.
Park Family Reunion
From the edge of the woods, Willow stared at a procession of soldiers galloping past. She lost count after watching the first few dozen of the Steel Fist racing south through the darkness of night.
“What could possibly require so many soldiers?” Willow whispered.
Raz tapped her elbow. “Where do you want to go?”
It had been a couple of hours since they’d left the werebit tunnels behind, and even though she felt certain that New Memphis was south, she wasn’t sure exactly how far away it was. “We need to keep the trail in sight; it will eventually lead to New Memphis.” Willow glanced at Raz and warned, “We also need to stay close to the woods. Raz, anyone who sees you will immediately know something is wrong and probably call for the Steel Fist. We can’t afford that kind of trouble, so you’ll need to stay out of sight, okay?”
Raz frowned as they jogged south.
“Don’t worry. My family’s house is not far from the woods. Once we get to New Memphis, I’ll be very quick.”
Growl whined.
“I smell fire.”
Willow scanned the horizon, noticed the glow ahead to the south and felt a strong sense of unease as she hurried. If that fire was coming from New Memphis, then who knows what she could expect to find when she arrived.
Willow advanced on the outskirts of New Memphis and wrinkled her nose as the odor of burning wood permeated the air. Raz followed right behind. He refused to be left behind and instead promised to stay in the shadows and not be seen.
With her heart thumping, she watched the fire spread from one distant building to another as screams erupted in the night. Much of the merchant’s square was on fire and Willow worried as she raced southeast.
Spying her house, Willow’s concern rose. No lanterns were lit inside, and with the commotion outside, Willow couldn’t imagine her brothers were still asleep.
Not wanting to risk being seen, Willow snuck toward the rear entrance and tested the door. It was locked.
Somewhere in the distance, people screamed about the fire and Willow heard cries for water. Over the crackling sound of a collapsing building and people yelling, she also heard the unmistakable rattle of metal armor. Were the Steel Fist helping fight the fires?
Giving up on the back door, Willow skirted the side of her house and spotted the window to her brothers’ room. She rapped her knuckles on the milky-white glass and waited nervously as the yelling and sound of armor got closer.
Rapping once again, even harder this time, Willow couldn’t fathom how they could be sleeping through all of the activity.
Pulling her dagger out, she was about to rap once more with its handle when she heard a familiar voice cry out in pain.
Unslinging her bow, Willow nocked an arrow and raced to the front of the house.
The fire in the distance cast long shadows on the ground, giving the world an eerie orange glow. Willow turned the corner and the scene in front of her home unfolded in all of its gruesome reality.
Willow’s blood ran cold and it almost felt as if her heart stopped beating when she spied Brad lying on his side with an arrow piercing his chest. John let out of bellow of rage as he unleashed an arrow into the soldier hovering over Brad’s convulsing body. As the arrow flew, everything seemed to move in slow motion.
John stepped back toward his brother and unleashed a torrent of arrows at the advancing troops. Twenty yards away, lay a half-dozen armored soldiers, each pierced with multiple arrows.
Arrows Willow recognized by the bright-colored fletching. The arrows had all been made by her brothers.
Advancing on all that remained of her family was a dozen of the Steel Fist. Willow immediately loosed an arrow and raced toward the line of soldiers.
Willow cringed when John screamed with pain as a crossbow bolt slammed into his leg.
Blood pounded in Willow’s head as Rubyrend screamed for revenge.
Willow’s gaze fell on a distant soldier reloading his crossbow.
Without thinking, Willow raised her bow, and Rubyrend roared for blood as she pulled the arrow back and let it fly.
The arrow whistled through the air and speared the crossbow-wielding soldier through the eye, instantly killing him.
Willow raced toward her brothers as she nocked another arrow and let it fly, striking one of the Steel Fist in his throat.
John glanced uncertainly in her direction as she approached, he loosed another arrow at the line of advancing soldiers and barely avoided getting skewered by another crossbow bolt that whizzed by.
Willow glanced at Brad’s motionless body and something inside her broke. “Brad!” Willow yelled at her brother with a quavering voice, hoping beyond hope that his eyes would open.
They didn’t.
“Willow?” John gasped, his eyes widening with recognition. “We thought you were—”
A spear slammed into John’s shoulder, knocking him off-balance.
Willow watched as John fell across Brad’s body, and something inside of her burned with uncontrolled fury. For the first time in her life, she wanted the revenge that the dragon was screaming for.
Another crossbow bolt flew just past her ear, and it was as if she could see the blurred disturbance in the air, letting her trace back the bolt’s trajectory.
Her vision focused clearly on the soldier lowering the crossbow to reload, no more than forty-feet away.
Willow immediately loosed an arrow, striking the man squarely between his chest plate and helmet. He gave out a gurgling scream as blood fountained from a gaping wound in his neck.
With three arrows left, Willow knew she was in trouble as the soldiers charged.
She launch an arrow and cringed as it careened off the edge of the man’s helmet, temporarily halting his progress thirty-feet away.
Three of the advancing soldiers were suddenly knocked over in a tremendous crash as a runaway horse trampled through their advancing line.
They were only twenty feet separating her and the approaching wall of steel as she launched the last of her arrows.
Growl leaped at one of the soldiers, his teeth clamping onto the soldier’s exposed neck, pulling him to the ground with a crash as Willow drew forth her dagger.
Knowing that her brothers wouldn’t stand a chance if the soldiers reached them, she charged the four remaining soldiers.
In her mind, she knew she didn’t have a chance.
The black blade she wielded slashed at one of the spears that a soldier jabbed at her.
To her astonishment, the dagger bit into the wooden shaft and sliced the spear in half as if it were a stick of butter.
Ducking the swing of another soldier’s sword, she jabbed her weapon at the breastplate of the spear-wielding soldier. With a spark and metallic tearing noise, the dagger buried itself into the man’s chest.
Suddenly, a soldier let out a gurgling scream as Raz jumped on him from behind, reached forward, and raked his long nails across the man’s throat.
The soldier collapsed in a metallic crash of armor, spurting blood from his ripped-open windpipe.
Another soldier fell with a dagger buried in the side of his neck as a familiar voice screamed, “Watch out!”
Willow twisted her body just as a spear grazed the side of her chest.
Launching herself at the soldier, she slammed a kick at the man’s knee. Willow felt more than heard the sound of tendons popping as the soldier screamed, his leg twisting at an unnatural angle as he collapsed.
Growl jumped onto the prone soldier, finishing him off as Willow spun around to see two soldiers attacking an unarmored man.
Willow gasped.
With a dagger in each hand, Tristan just bare
ly fended off a blow from one of the Steel Fist.
Tristan managed to trap the sword that had been plunging toward him with his two daggers and ripped the weapon from the soldier’s grasp.
Raz launched himself at the weaponless soldier, pulling him to the ground as Willow lunged at the other soldier, burying her dagger between the edges of his chest plate.
With a blood-soaked muzzle, Growl advanced on Tristan. The governor’s son cried out as he fell back, tripping over one of the fallen soldier’s bodies.
“Growl!” Willow yelled. “Leave him alone.”
Tristan gasped as he turned to Willow and looked at her with a confused expression. “Willow, is that you? You look so—” Tristan stared at her, looking both relieved and afraid. “It can’t be. He told me you’d been exiled.”
Ignoring Tristan, Willow’s chest tightened as she raced to her brothers’ side. They were both unconscious or worse. She felt for Brad’s pulse.
Nothing.
The steel band around her chest tightened a bit, and she found it hard to breath as she felt at John’s neck, looking for a sign of life.
Just as she touched him his hand grasped her wrist and he coughed up blood. “Baby sis ... how is it poss—” He struggled to pull in a breath, pain clearly registered on his expression.
Blood pooled under her brother as the wound to his leg continued to bleed.
Tristan knelt next to John, ripping a strip of cloth from his tunic. “He’ll bleed out if we don’t do something.”
Her brother squeezed Willow’s hand as Tristan wrapped the strip of cloth above the wound on John’s leg and cinched it tightly around his thigh.
“It’s no use....” John breathed through gritted teeth and shook his head.
Willow hushed her brother as she struggled to come up with something to help.
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